Far in a wild, unknown to public view,
From youth to age a reverend hermit grew;
The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell,
His food the fruits, his drink the crystal well:
Remote from men, with God he passed the days,
Prayer all his business - all his pleasure praise.
2150

HEROES.

Parnell: The Hermit. Line 1.

Prodigious actions may as well be done

By weaver's issue, as by prince's son.

2151 Dryden Absalom and Achitophel. Pt. i. Line 638. Heroes are much the same, the point's agreed,

From Macedonia's madman to the Swede.

2152

Pope: Essay on Man. Epis. iv. Line 219.

I know thee for a man of many thoughts,
And deeds of good and ill, extreme in both,
Fatal and fated in thy sufferings.

2153

Byron: Manfred. Act ii. Sc. 2.

Yes, Honor decks the turf that wraps their clay. 2154

Byron: Ch. Harold. Canto i. St. 42.

Whoe'er excels in what we prize,

Appears a hero in our eyes.

2155

Swift: Cadenus and Vanessa. Line 729

To the hero, when his sword

Has won the battle for the free,

Death's voice sounds like a prophet's word;
And in its hollow tones are heard

The thanks of millions yet to be!

2156

Halleck: Marco Bozzaris

The hero is the world-man, in whose heart
One passion stands for all, the most indulged.

2157

Bailey: Festus. Proem. Line 114

HESPERUS.

O Hesperus! thou bringest all good things
Home to the weary, to the hunger cheer,
To the young bird the parent's brooding wings,
The welcome stall to the o'erlabor'd steer.
Whate'er of peace about our hearthstone clings,
Whate'er our household gods protect of dear,
And gather'd round us by thy look of rest;
Thou bring'st the child, too, to the mother's breast.
2158
Byron: Don Juan. Canto iii. St. 10%

HISTORY

see Authors, Books.

There is the moral of all human tales;

"Tis but the same rehearsal of the past,

First freedom, and then glory when that fails,
Wealth, vice, corruption-barbarism at last,

And history, with all her volumes vast,
Hath but one page.

2159

HOBBIES.

Byron: Ch. Harold. Canto iv. St. 108

One master passion in the breast,

Like Aaron's serpent, swallows up the rest.

2160

Pope: Essay on Man. Epis. ii. Line 131.

The ruling passion, be it what it will,

The ruling passion conquers reason still. 2161

HOLIDAY.

Pope: Moral Essays. Epis. iii. Line 153.

see Birthday, Christmas, New Year.

If all the year were playing holidays,

To sport would be as tedious as to work;

But when they seldom come, they wished-for come,
And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.

2162

Shaks.: 1 Henry IV. Act i. Sc. 2.

The holiest of all holidays are those
Kept by ourselves in silence and apart;
The secret anniversaries of the heart,
When the full river of feeling overflows;
The happy days unclouded to their close;
The sudden joys that out of darkness start
As flames from ashes; swift desires that dart
Like swallows singing down each wind that blows!
2163

We speak of a Merry Christmas,
And many a Happy New Year;
But each in his heart is thinking
Of those that are not here.

2164

Longfellow: Holidays

Longfellow: The Meeting. St. 4.

The eye that contemplates it well perceives
Its glossy leaves

Order'd by an intelligence so wise

As might confound an atheist's sophistries.
Below a circling fence its leaves are seen,
Wrinkled and keen;

No grazing cattle through their prickly round
Can reach to wound;

But, as they grow where nothing is to fear,
Smooth and unarm'd the pointless leaves appear.
2166

HOME see Absence, Welcome.

Southey: The Holly Tree

Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits. 2167

Cowley: To the Bishop of Lincoln.

Shaks.: Two Gent. of V. Act i. Sc. 1. The whole world, without a native home, Is nothing but a prison of larger room. 2168 The little smiling cottage! where at eve He meets his rosy children at the door, Prattling their welcomes, and his honest wife, With good brown cake and bacon slice, intent To cheer his hunger after labor hard. 2169

Dyer: The Fleece. i. 120.
Home is the resort
Of love, of joy, of peace and plenty, where,
Supporting and supported, polish'd friends
And dear relations mingle into bliss.

2170
There's a strange something which, without a brain,
Fools feel, and which e'en wise men can't explain,
Planted in man, to bind him to that earth,

Thomson: Seasons. Autumn. Line 65.

In dearest ties, from whence he drew his birth.

2171

Churchill: The Farewell. Line 63.

The first sure symptom of a mind in health,
Is rest of heart, and pleasure felt at home.

2172
Such is the patriot's boast, where'er we roam,
His first, best country, ever is at home.

2173

Young: Night Thoughts. Night viii. Line 930

Goldsmith: Traveller Line 72

1

This fond attachment to the well-known place
Whence first we started into life's long race,
Maintains its hold with such unfailing sway,
We feel it e'en in age, and at our latest day.
2174

Cowper: Tirocinium. Line 314

The parted bosom clings to wonted home,
If aught, that's kindred, cheer the welcome hearth.
2175
Byron: Ch. Harold. Canto ii. St. 92

He enter'd in the house-his home no more;

For without hearts there is no home; - and felt
The solitude of passing his own door
Without a welcome.

2176.

Byron: Don Juan. Canto iii. St. 52

'Tis sweet to hear the watch-dog's honest bark
Bay deep-mouthed welcome as we draw near home;
'Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark
Our coming, and look brighter when we come.

2177

Byron: Don Juan. Canto i. St. 123.

And say, without our hopes, without our fears,
Without the home that plighted love endears,
Without the smile from partial beauty won,
Oh! what were man?-a world without a sun.
2178

Campbell: Pl. of Hope. Pt. ii. Line 21.

Breathes there the man with soul so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,

This is my own, my native land!

Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd,

As home his footsteps he hath turn'd,

From wandering on a foreign strand!

2179

Scott: Lay of Last Minstrel. Canto vi. St. 1.

How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood,
When fond recollection presents them to view: :-
The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wildwood,
And every lov'd spot which my infancy knew.
2180

Woodworth: The Old Oaken Bucket. 'Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home. 2181

J. Howard Payne: Home, Sweet Home.

The Cottage Homes of England!

By thousands on her plains,

They are smiling o'er the silvery brooks,

And round the hamlet-fanes;

Through glowing orchards forth they peep,
Each from its nook of leaves;

And fearless there the lowly sleep,

As the birds beneath their eaves.

2182

Mrs. Hemans: Homes of England

The stately Homes of England,
How beautiful they stand!

Amidst their tall ancestral trees,

O'er all the pleasant land.

2183
Man, through all ages of revolving time,
Unchanging man, in every varying clime,
Deems his own land of every land the pride,
Belov'd of heaven o'er all the world beside:
His home, the spot of earth supremely blest,
A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest.

Mrs. Hemans: Homes of England

2184 James Montgomery: West Indies. Pt. iii. Line 63 Who hath not met with home-made bread,

A heavy compound of putty and lead,

And home-made wines that rack the head,
And home-made liqueurs and waters?
Home-made pop that will not foam,

And home-made dishes that drive one from home.
Not to name each mess

For the face or dress,

Home-made by the homely daughters?

2185

HOMER.

Hood: Miss Kilmansegg. Her Misery.

I can no more believe old Homer blind,

Than those who say the sun hath never shin'd;
The age wherein he liv'd was dark, but he
Could not want sight who taught the world to see.

2186

Denham: Progress of Learning

Read Homer once, and you can read no more,
For all books else appear so mean, so poor;
Verse may seem prose; but still persist to read,
And Homer will be all the books you need.

2187 Sheffield, Duke of Buckinghamshire: Essay on Poetry. HONESTY see Sincerity.

Because I cannot flatter, and look fair,

Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cog,
Duck with French nods and apish courtesy,

I must be held a rancorous enemy.

Cannot a plain man live, and think no harm,

But thus his simple truth must be abus'd
By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks?

2188

Shaks.: Richard III. Act i. Sc. &

There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats;
For I am arm'd so strong in honesty,
That they pass by me, as the idle wind,
Which I respect not.

2189

Shaks.: Jul. Cæsar. Act iv. Sc. 8.